My Dad

It's Father's Day and I wanted to pay tribute to my dad. My dad is Charles P Smith. Known by some as "Pete", known by others as "Charlie," known by his cousins as "Sonny".  My dad is a great guy. He is 76 years old and dealing with health problems and still helping his daughters and grandchildren when needed.

My dad doesn't understand this generation of men, who don't take care of things. He doesn't understand how a man will let his wife support him and he is able-bodied. He doesn't understand why, when things get tight, that today's men will not hustle to work extra to do what ever it takes to make ends meet. He doesn't understand how a man could father children and then turn his back on them, even when they turn 18. He is an old-school man. 

My dad was raised mostly by his grandparents. His mother and step-father were there, but for some reason he stayed with his grandparents until he was 17.  He went to work at 16 or 17 as a janitor at the Lincoln Mercury plant on South Oakwood Avenue.  He graduated from Straton High School in 1953.  As a student he was average.  He went to work at Raleigh General Hospital as an orderly. He worked in the operating room for 16 years.  He at times worked as many as five part time jobs.  When they first got married in 1956, my mom worked until my sister was born. Sharon was such a handful that the lady that kept us didn't want to keep Sharon. So she quit work to stay home. She made more money than my dad did. He went to work doing janitor work at night for different people he knew.  If there were food stamps back then I am sure we would have qualified. Back then it was a shameful thing because you were susposed take care of your family unless you were sick. 

When we were born, my mom and dad made a promise that they would do whatever it took to take care of us. They had went to school with some albinos. They knew what a hard time they had. Upon the advice of one of the doctor where he worked, he went to the library to do some research and albinism.  My parents treated us normally, we had chores to do. They didn't handicap us by allowing us to use not being able to see well as an excuse.  We had toys and all of the things we needed. My dad went to the loan company at Christmas to make sure we would have the things we wanted.  My parents sacrificed many things so that they could build a home and give us what we needed. 

Since we couldn't be in the sun much, my dad built us a covered play area.  As an adult he drove me to take my FFC third class radio test to get my license.  It was funny recalling that. I had worked the 6PM to 12 Midnight shift at the radio station. I had to be in Charleston at 8AM, so we had to leave Beckley by 6:15 AM. He told me, "we have to sleep fast."  We did and I passed the test. I got my third class radio certificate.  Well, there were many milestones there. 

When I got the house here, I was single and my dad and his friend came here everyday to work on it before he went to work. He used to take care of my yard until I got married.   When my mom died I  started having him pick me up from school and take me places so he would get out of the house. I haven't always been the ideal daughter. There are times I caused him plenty of worries, but he is a great dad still.

Being a dad is more than being a sperm donor. It is doing what it takes to make sure your family is taken care of. My dad's favorite scripture is Psalms 1  There was one quote in the Danielle Steel book called "Daddy". It said being a father is a job that starts when the life begins until the day that you die. My dad's quote is "It's my duty and responsibility". I wish there were more responsible dads out there.